


More Than Words

by Glass_Oceans



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blind Date, First Date, M/M, Poetry as a means of seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Oceans/pseuds/Glass_Oceans
Summary: Armitage is a cynic about love because of his father's relationship with Maratelle and Armitage's mother, but when a friend signs him up for a blind date, he meets Ben. Despite Ben's parents having a completely dysfunctional marriage, he remains an optimist about finding his soulmate. It might not be love at first sight, but there's definitely something going on…





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mintmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintmagic/gifts).



> This is my kyluxchange ― valentine's 2018 fill for Mintmagic. I hope you enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing it!

“You did what?”

“I signed you up for a dating site!” Phasma said, looking entirely too pleased with herself as she stroked Millicent. “You have a date on Friday.”

“Why?”

“Cos I saw the way you were looking at Dopheld and his new boyfriend, so I thought it was time you did something about it.”

“You mean time you did something,” Hux muttered, taking a sip from his glass of wine. “You didn’t happen to remember the look I was giving him when his last relationship ended in disaster?”

Phasma rolled her eyes.

“Not every relationship ends like that,” she said.

“My parents are divorced-”

“And mine aren’t,” Phasma cut him off. “Ok, Hux, just…” she picked up her phone, swiping through the pictures. She held the phone out to him. “Take a look at this guy. Isn’t he worth one evening?”

Hux adjusted the angle of the phone in Phasma’s hand. Ben, according to his profile, was wearing a shirt that looking like it was a feat to remain buttoned up. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, but did nothing to hide how broad they were, or how the muscles of his arms strained against the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t what Hux was looking for.

“Yeah, he looks great,” Hux said as he sat back. “Looks like he’ll spend all evening talking about his high protein, low fat diet and how much he can bench press.”

“You don’t think he’s even pretty enough for a one-night stand?” Phasma asked, picking up the bottle of wine to top off her own and Hux’s glasses.

“If you think he is, then be my guest,” Hux replied, holding his glass steady as Phasma emptied the last of the dregs into it.

Phasma grinning, tapping her foot against Hux’s toe.

“He’s very much not my type.”

Millicent let out a mewl as Phasma shifted.

“Oh, sorry darling,” Phasma cooed, setting her glass down to scratch Millicent’s chin with both hands.

Hux sighed as he watched his best friend play with his cat. He wasn’t sure why she was insisting on this, she was single herself at the moment, she could just have easily spent the time looking up someone for herself to spend Friday night with. Hux smiled as Millicent shook her head, and settled back down between Phasma’s legs.

“So what’s it to be?”

Hux sighed. “Phasma, I don’t know…”

“I’ll do your end of month reports for you.”

Hux frowned at Phasma, his suspicion growing.

“My monthly reports don’t bother me that much.”

“Not even if I do them for the next three months?”

“What are you up to?”

“Can’t I just be looking out for my oldest friend?”

Hux snorted.

“Innocent isn’t a look that becomes you Phasma. What are you up to?”

“Ok fine,” Phasma said, throwing her hands into the air before just as quickly setting one on Millicent’s back as she thrilled. “I do want you to be happy, but I just have a feeling about this guy, alright? Let me be right, just this once.”

“Three months you said?”

“Three months,” Phasma said nodding.

“Very well,” Hux said, holding up his wine glass, “you have a deal.”

Phasma lifted her own glass to tap it against Hux’s, her smile blindingly bright.

* * *

The rest of the week passed entirely too slowly for Hux’s liking. He would rather have not had the date at all, but as there was no way Phasma was going to let him back out of it, he just wanted to get it over with. That Phasma kept dropping by his desk at every opportunity wasn’t helping.

“Yes Phasma?”

Hux had been ignoring her for as long as he could, but as she was now jiggling her leg where she perched on the edge of his desk, the vibration that was travelling to his keyboard was becoming annoying.

“Have you picked out your outfit yet?”

“Phasma, it’s only Tuesday.”

“I’ve never known you to be this unorganised for a meeting.”

Hux turned to glare at Phasma, which only prompted her to stick her tongue out at him.

“It’s not a meeting, it’s a date. It’s not that important.”

“It might be.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“No, I’ve got all my own done. And I’m not going to need to do yours so...” she shrugged. “I thought I’d come bother you for a bit.”

“Consider me bothered. Now shoo.”

“Alright, but don’t come crying to me when you can’t pick out the right shirt and tie combo!”

“Don’t worry,” Hux muttered to himself as he resumed typing. “I won’t.”

* * *

Hux felt the words rattle around his head as he stared into his wardrobe on Friday evening, a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d contemplated messaging Phasma with his options, then figured that by the time she finished teasing him, he’d have made the decision himself.

A chime sounded on his phone, and he cursed as he began pulling items from his wardrobe. He would have gone with a shirt and sweater vest, but it was too warm, unseasonably warm really, for that, so instead he pulled out a dark green shirt and paired it with dark jeans. He went back into the backroom to slick back his hair, taking in the final image in the mirror. The chime sounded again. Screw it, it would have to do. He didn’t have time to change again so he threw on his light jacket as he left the apartment.

The traffic was as heavier than he expected, even for a Friday night, and found Hux drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. With a twist in his stomach, he was half hoping that his date would just give up on waiting for him, and then he could just explain to Phasma what had happened, winning the bet and her sympathy for a couple of weeks at least. The traffic cleared before he could entertain the fantasy of her taking on his workload, and he got parking fairly easily, locking the car and wiping his hands on his jeans to get rid of the claminess. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he strode down to the restaurant Phasma had selected for the date, prepared to meet his doom.

He arrived at the restaurant feeling a little flustered from his fast paced walk, and couldn’t help noting that there was no-one standing outside to wait for him. Giving Ben a mark down in his mind, he stepped inside, waiting for the maître d’s attention. The man gave him an easy smile with his greeting.

“Good evening sir, how can we help you?”

“Ah, I think there’s a table booked for me here? Should be under the name Gwen Phasma?”

The man looked briefly through his ledger.

“Ah, I have it here. Your guest has already arrived, so I’ll just bring you to them now.”

Hux nodded as the man led the way, feeling dread settle deeper in his stomach. Of course he wasn’t going to get out of it that easily. He glanced around as he followed the server, trying to spy the tables with a single, dark haired occupant, but he wasn’t prepared when the server gestured to a table towards the back of the room. The man sitting at the table was hunched over it, though it did nothing to make his large frame any smaller. He was wearing a deep red shirt, and black jeans similar to Hux’s own, the effect striking when combined with his dark hair. As Hux drew closer, he could see that Ben held his phone in the his hands, thumbs flying over the screen as he typed.

Hux sighed. Just as he suspected, he was probably instagramming or some such nonsense, spreading pictures of his latest workout, or twittering on about whatever detox was all the rage this week. Hux doubted he’d even be able to hold a decent conversation, for all that he was fairly pretty to look at. Hux stopped beside his chair, but the phone had captured his date’s attention so completely that Hux had to clear his throat before he looked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, hello,” he said, scrambling out of his seat. Hux was pleasantly surprised that Ben was of a height with him. He was so weary of having to bend down to kiss his hook-ups. “You must be Armitage. I’m Ben,” Ben continued, holding out his hand.

“Actually, I prefer Hux,” Hux said as he took the offered hand, fighting to keep his expression clear as his hand was entirely enveloped in Ben’s huge, warm paw, his grip firm and dry. Ben allowed the contact to linger just a while, before dropping Hux’s hand and gesturing to the table.

“Hux, then,” Ben said with a smile. “Shall we?”

Hux smiled and slid into the seat opposite Ben, who was tucked his phone away in the messenger satchel hanging from the back of his chair before he gave his attention to Hux.

“I haven’t ordered yet,” he said. “I just thought it’d be nicer to wait inside.”

“Oh. Yes, sorry, traffic was a nightmare,” Hux replied, opening up one of the menus and perusing it’s contents. After a beat or two, Ben did likewise.

Hux had to give it to Phasma, the selection was quite decent. If nothing else, he’d get a good dinner out of this. He was vaguely aware of Ben closing his menu and putting it down on the table, but Hux sniffed and continued scanning his options. As the moments drifted by, he could hear Ben shuffling on his side of the table, filling his glass from the water jug on the table, moving his cutlery about, but Hux refused to look up at him. Not until Ben’s napkin slid under this menu, scrawled with an impressively beautiful hand for all that it was ballpoint pen on a napkin, _I can recommend the fish_.

Hux stared at the note before he folded his menu, settling it down as he felt heat rising in his cheeks. He took a sip of water, then folded his hands in front of him, not quite able to meet Ben’s eyes.

“So, what do you do?”

Hux looked up to Ben, his shoulders dropping in relief as he took the offered lifeline.

“I’m ah, in finance, purchasing, that kind of thing.”

“You’re there with Phasma I presume?”

“You know about Phasma?”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Phasma was up front about who was arranging this date. A double blind date, if you will.”

“She showed me your picture.”

“And she sent me yours. So I knew to look out for a hot redhead.”

Hux felt his cheeks ignite then, and took a large gulp of water as an excuse to look away. He was saved from having to respond to that by the arrival of their server, who delivered a basket of bread and opened up her notebook to take the order. Ben asked for a few more minutes when Hux went to open his menu again, flustered. As soon as she was out of earshot, Ben picked up the conversation.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me,” Ben said with a smile. “But you are gorgeous.”

Hux blinked at Ben, unsure how to deal with someone who was so very straightforward and, well, blunt.

“And what do you do for a living?” Hux asked, trying to regain some control.

“Oh, I’m in IT, a different kind of numbers. But that’s just the day job.”

“And the evening job?” Hux was expecting that this was the point that he’d been bored to tears with details of the man’s workout routine. Perhaps even be forced to sit through the man’s “gun show”. It was an effort not to roll his eyes at just the thought.

“I’m, ah.. I’m a poet.”

“A poet?” Hux asked, surprised.

Ben laughed self-consciously, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck while a blush spread across his cheeks.

“Yeah, kinda,” he said. “It’s not like, I’m not published or anything. I just share stuff online now and again. That’s actually what I was doing when you came in.”

“Sharing online?”

“Writing. Writing one,” Ben said, looking up to meet Hux’s eye. “There’s a kind of tension and excitement that comes with a first date, I wanted to see if I could capture it in words.”

Hux found himself speechless. Ben wasn’t anything like he had expected. He had an urge to respond with something biting and sarcastic to Ben, but the look in his deep, brown eyes, something vulnerable even to a complete stranger, stopped him. Hux was saved from having to think of something to say that might even have been complimentary by the return of their server, and rather than send her away again, when Ben picked up the menu and offered to select for them, Hux waved his consent, taking another sip of his water. He listened with half an ear as Ben ordered fish dishes for them both, and a bottle of white wine that would pair well with both meals.

As the server left, Hux excused himself from the table to wash up before dinner. As soon as he was in the bathroom, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, texting Phasma furiously.

 _He’s a poet Phasma, you set me up with a poet_.

Phasma’s reply was instantaneous. Likely she was waiting for updates from him as he complained his way through the date to her.

_You’re welcome!_

Hux frowned at his phone. Infuriating woman. He slipped the phone away, washing his hands thoroughly under ice-cold water, returning to the table as Ben sampled and accepted the wine that was delivered to their table. He smiled at Hux as he took his seat again, lifting his filled glass to tap it against Hux’s own. Hux found the wine was chilled to perfection, with hints of crisp apple that would be perfect with the meal Ben had ordered.

“So I presume it’s the poetry that gives you such good taste in wine?” Hux asked as he set down his glass.

Ben shrugged, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut for a moment. “Not really,” he said. “My mom liked the finer things in life, I guess she rubbed off on me.”

“Is that what she does?” Hux asked, “Fine foods?”

“Nah, she’d burn water given half a chance,” Ben said with a smile. “She’s a Senator. But she and Dad used to travel a lot, especially when they first got together. She picked up a lot from that, passed it on to me.”

Hux nodded. It was starting to sound like Ben had had an entirely different kind of life to Hux’s which was just a different reason to dislike him, and be sure that all this wouldn’t work out.

“And-” Hux began, but stopped as he server reappeared and placed their dishes in front of them. Hux watched the plates being set down, curious what Ben had selected. His own dish was a fillet of red snapper, coated liberally in a ginger lime sauce. Ben had a darne of bream, stuffed with chestnut and mushrooms. A platter of rice and another of steamed seasonal vegetables was set on the table between them. Ben picked up his cutlery, and spread his note scribbled napkin over his lap, and nodded for Hux to continue his comment.

“What did your father do?”

“I’m starting to feel like I’m in an interview,” Ben said, smiling as he flaked his fish.

“You have a lot more to talk about, I assure you,” Hux said as he picked up his first forkful of fish and ginger. He couldn’t help the noise of pleasure that escaped him as the food melted on his tongue. “Like where did you get such fantastic taste in food? I don’t think this was from your mother. Your father?”

Ben shook his head. “Dad knew his drinks, but he knew even less about food than mom did.” He paused to take a bite of his own food before it cooled. “I travelled around Europe for a while, took a gap year from college. Went to the Mediterranean for the food, and Ireland for the poetry.”

“Ireland?” Hux muttered, “Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the weather.”

Ben shrugged. “Some of my favourite poets came from there. I wanted to see what their inspiration was like.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Not really,” Ben said, a distant look in his eyes.

“That’s what happens when you have a country perpetually covered with clouds,” Hux muttered.

“You don’t miss it then?”

Hux looked up in surprise to find Ben smiling at him.

“I guessed. Looks like I was right.”

“I emigrated when I was twenty-two,” Hux said. “Haven’t looked back.”

“The weather here is better, I guess.”

“It rains less, at least.”

Ben laughed and they both ate in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the meal and the wine, attempting to steal bites of each other’s dishes, though Ben was far better at defending his plate than Hux was. The restaurant grew busier while they were there, servers walking past often on their way to other tables or to top up their water. Hux had reduced his meal to skin and bones when he set his fork down.

“So what were you looking for?”

He couldn’t have said why he asked. Nothing about this man indicated he’d be a good match for Hux, but... He found himself wanting to hear his voice, wanting to see that faraway look in his eyes, like he was a specimen under glass to be studied.

Ben looked up at Hux sheepishly. “It was all part of my grand adventure,” he said, dropping his gaze as if embarrassed to be admitting his. “I was going to walk the streets those poets had walked, sip the same drinks, find love…”

Hux laughed. “You’re a desperate romantic.”

“And you’re a complete cynic,” Ben replied.

Hux grinned. “Guilty as charged,” he said. “Your parents must have been a great example for you.”

“Not at all, they divorced when I was nine.”

“And you’re still a romantic?” Hux asked, feeling on solid ground again. This was something he was all too familiar with.

“Someone else’s relationship has no bearing on my own,” Ben said, giving Hux the feeling that it was something he had repeated to himself often. “Besides, they’re still kinda together.”

Hux picked up his fork, pushing the last morsels of fish about his plate.. “How does that work?”

“It doesn’t,” Ben replied, shaking his head. “Not for the most part. They fight, they scream at each other, they don’t see each other for most of the year.”

“I can see why they seperated.”

Ben smiled. “But they’re both very passionate people. They can’t stand to be without each other either.”

“Huh,” Hux replied, idly pushing slices of ginger about his plate. “And it works for them?”

“It does, in a way,” Ben said, his voice quieter. “I take it your experience wasn’t so great,”

Hux lifted one shoulder in a shrug, setting his fork down again.

“My parents were never married in the first place,” he said. “My mother worked at my father's business and when he was a younger man, they fell in love. Or, at least she thought it was love. He thought he could make her settle down.”

“But he was wrong.”

“He was wrong,” Hux agreed. “So he turned his back on us. Until his own wife turned out to be infertile and he sued for custody, and I went to live with him and Maratelle.”

“And your mother?”

“I lost track of her after the custody case. Brendol pulled strings, so there were no visitation rights. I haven’t been able to find her yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? That man drove his wife away from him too. They separated shortly after I went to college, so as soon as I graduated I left the country and never looked back.”

Ben was silent, and when Hux looked up he could see the distress written in his eyes as his fingers drifted over the step of his wine glass.

“Oh come, it’s not all bad.”

“It’s not?” Ben asked. “I feel bad now for even bringing it up.”

Hux smiled as he lifted his wine glass, his eyes still flat. “This is why I was interviewing earlier. The things I talk about are entirely too serious. It’s that, or boring you with pictures of my cat.”

Ben snorted, giving a half smile as his eyes flicked up to look at Hux.

“I’m serious,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass. “Millicent is a beautiful cat, and she’s currently taking up most of the storage on my phone.”

“You named your cat Millicent?”

Hux put down his glass on the table, folding his arms on its surface and fixing Ben with a very serious stare.

“This is your only warning,” Hux said, “cute or not, insult my cat and this is over before it’s begun.”

Ben smiled then. “You think I’m cute?”

Hux held the poker face a moment longer, before he echoed Ben’s smile, sitting back in his chair.

“I’m watching you,” Hux threatened.

“I should hope so,” Ben joked, but at the sight of Hux’s raised brow, he held up his hands, “and I am warned. Pussy jokes are off the table.”

Hux snorted the mouthful of wine he had been taking, and glared at Ben even as he snatched the napkin from his hands. Hux muttered curses under his breath as he tried to dab the wine from himself, while Ben rested his chin on his hand, looking completely unrepentant. Hux finished by throwing the napkin back at Ben, who caught it deftly, laying it down on the table as he offered his hand to Hux.

“Let me make it up to you,” he suggested, waggling his fingers.

Hux looked down at Ben’s hand, expecting a trap. “Oh?”

“You look like a man who enjoys his dessert.”

Hux’s smile broadened, and he lay his fingers down over Ben’s.

“Excellent,” Hux said, waving over a server. “Well, you picked dinner, it’s only right that I pick dessert.”

“That’s not fair,” Ben protested.

“It’s entirely unfair,” Hux agreed, taking both dessert menus and holding them out of Ben’s reach. “But there’s not much you can do about it, is there?”

Ben’s smile grew broader, and darker in a way that make Hux want to be pinned under it.

“Now that’s really not fair.”

“Well then,” Hux said, looking over the options, “at least you understand now that my cynicism is nothing to do with my past and entirely a character flaw.”

Ben fell back against his seat with a grin, drawing patterns in the condensation on his glass while Hux ordered their desserts by pointing to the items on the menu so Ben couldn’t even get a hint of what was selected. As the server moved away, Hux returned Ben’s grin, topping off their glasses with the last of the wine.

“Dammit,” he said, setting the bottle upside down in it’s cooler, “I forgot to order coffee.”

“My place isn’t far from here,” Ben replied. “We could have coffee there if you like.”

“That sounds nice,” Hux replied, moving his hand to cover Ben’s a little more with his own.

“You know, you never told me what you liked doing for fun?”

“Me? Oh I don’t do anything. I stay at home with my cat, watching crime dramas or the like, or I get set up on blind dates by an enemy who calls herself my best friend.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Millicent is the best company one could ask for when watching crime drama reruns. Gasps at all the right moments.”

Ben snorted, pretending to pull away from Hux’s touch, but Hux grabbed his hand as he moved. Ben smiled as he halted his retreat, taking Hux’s hand more firmly in his own, rubbing his thumb across the back of Hux’s fingers. Hux squeezed Ben’s hand as he replied.

“It’s not working out too badly, to be honest.”

They separated reluctantly when the desserts arrived; a dark chocolate and cherry brownie which was set in front of Hux,and a honeycomb sundae in front of Ben. Ben watched as Hux arranged the dishes, lining them up evenly between them.

“I don’t usually like surprises,” Ben said, picking up his spoon.

“Ah, then you haven’t been doing dessert properly,” Hux replied, adjusting the dishes slightly. “The key to the perfect dessert,” he said, picking up his own spoon to slice into the brownie, “is to have all of them.” He dipped the brownie into the ice-cream, then reversed the handle of the spoon to hand it to Ben. Inordinately grateful that Hux wasn’t going to try and feed him, Ben accepted the spoon. He had to admit, the two desserts did set off each other well, even if the two combined were on the edge of two sweet for his palate. Hux had no such trouble, taking a bigger spoonful of both for himself.

Ben picked away at the brownie and sundae, watching as Hux dug a kirsch soaked cherry from the brownie, and nibbled on it delicately. He tried to keep a straight face as Hux finally took it from his spoon, holding it between his teeth for a moment before taking it into his mouth and chewing it with relish. Ben snorted, and was rewarded with a tap on the nose with an ice-cream covered spoon.

“Uncalled for.”

“Someone who laughs at me eating a cherry does not deserve to see what I can do with the stem.”

Ben sat up straight in his chair, looking appraisingly at Hux.

“That so?”

“I only boast about the things I excel at.”

“So, about that coffee?”

“Lead the way.”

Ben flagged down the server, signalling that they wanted the cheque, though Hux snatched it from his hand, inserting his card into the wallet and handing it back before Ben could object. “Well, you are paying for the coffee,” he muttered as he signed the stub, taking back his card. Ben dropped a couple of notes on the table in response, and together they headed out to the fresh air. They looked at each other for a moment, tasting the anticipation in the air before Ben linked his hand with Hux’s and they turned towards Ben’s apartment.

* * *

“So what about these etchings you promised to show me?”

Ben laughed as Hux followed him into his apartment, looking around as Ben pulled his keys from the door and swung it shut.

“I’m not sure about etchings,” he said, stepping up behind Hux and resting his arms on his shoulders, “but I did promise you coffee.”

Hux smiled over his shoulder as Ben crossed to the kitchen space, and set his coffee machine up, pouring out a blend that even from his far across the room made Hux’s mouth water. He shrugged off his jacket as he looked around Ben’s living room. It was modest, but cozy, made smaller by the piles of books that were piled on nearly every available surface, spilling over from the two tall bookshelves already installed against one wall.

“I’ve been meaning to get more bookshelves,” Ben said from behind him, following his gaze. “Here, let me take that.”

Ben took Hux’s jacket from his hands, hanging it with his own on the back of the front door. He went back to the coffee maker then, leaving Hux to look through the nearby books. He perched on the edge of the sofa as he picked up a well worn book, the cover faded. It appeared to be a collection of European mythology, the linen cover worn and fraying at the edges, and as Hux carefully turned a page, he could see the pages were covered in notes in a variety of handwriting.

Hux became aware of Ben standing over him, and placed the book back in its place, standing to relieve him of the coffee mug. He took the mug, blowing at the steam before he realised Ben’s hands were empty.

“Are you not having some yourself?” Hux asked.

“Turns out there’s only one coffee mug, what can we do?” Ben said, sliding his hands into his back pockets and shrugging.

Hux frowned at Ben, then looked over to the kitchenette, where the cupboard door stood ajar, a whole shelf full of mugs within.

“Uh-huh,” he said, eying Ben as he took a sip from the mug. The coffee was as flavorful as the smell had promised, hints of caramel threaded through the flavour. Hux took a second sip before he handed the mug back to Ben.

Ben grabbed the mug around it’s top, turning it so the cursive text of its side declaring coffee was visible as he took a drink. Hux rolled his eyes at him as he turned back to examine the bookshelf.

“What kinds of books do you have here?” he asked.

“All kinds,” Ben said. Hux could hear him set down the coffee mug as he moved over beside him. “I have a habit of finding second hand shops, library sales, anything and everything goes onto these shelves.”

Hux nodded, looking over the books. He could spend days here just running his fingers over the spines, picking out the the volume’s he’d read himself or the ones he could picture Ben reading to him. Hux found himself blinking in surprise at the image, but he couldn’t shake it from his mind, not with Ben standing so close behind him.

“If I wanted to know about you, which book should I read?” Hux asked, eyes still roaming over the treasures before him.

“Hmm,” Ben stepped forward, placing one hand on Hux’s hip to steady himself as he looked over the books. When Hux looked from the corner of his eye, he could see Ben biting his lip, before he reached out to pluck one book from the shelf, his hair brushing Hux’s cheek as he leaned past.

“This one,” Ben said, placing the book into Hux’s hands. Hux smiled as he looked down at the copy of Good Omens in his hands. This copy was well loved, spine cracked in a few places, but still in good condition.

“I’ve read this one,” Hux said, smiling at the memories. He flicked through the pages before setting the book back on it’s shelf, careful not to lean too far away from the warmth of Ben’s hand. He took a half step back when he released the book, leaning back against Ben’s chest. Ben’s other hand came to rest on his other side, and he turned his face to nuzzle at Hux’s neck, just shy of pressing his lips to his skin.

“Where do you write your poems?” Hux said. The coffee table in front of the sofa had a couple of notebooks lying on it, but they looked unused.

Ben chuckled in his ear. “I’m not going to show that to you on a first date, not while I still have a chance.”

Hux twisted in his arms to look him in the eye. “They can’t be that bad?”

“No,” Ben said, “but... not tonight. Maybe another time.”

Hux turned back to the books, trying to quell the fluttering in his stomach at Ben’s words.

“Alright then,” Hux said, “Which book contains your favourite poem?”

“You don’t need to read that,” Ben said, his voice taking on a dream like quality “I know it.”

Hux turned around to face Ben, staring into eyes that cleared as Ben looked at him, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Ben lifted one hand to the edge of Hux’s collar, trailing his fingers down the edge beside the buttons.

“Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,” he began, his smile becoming brighter as his gaze flicked up to Hux’s hair.

“Enwrought with golden and silver light…” Hux’s eyes drifted closed as Ben’s fingers carded through his hair, and a moment later he felt Ben’s lips brush ever so gently against his, more of a promise than a kiss, so Hux couldn’t help but chase after him, lifting his own hands to rest against Ben’s chest, needing that presence to help ground himself in the darkness behind his own eyelids. Hux felt Ben’s nose bump against his, and reached again for a kiss, only to have Ben retreat just enough to whisper the next lines against his lips.

“The blue and the dim and the dark cloths,” he said, “Of night,” he continued as he moved away from Hux’s lips to press a kiss against one eyelid “and light” and then the other “and the half-light…”

Hux heard the tremor in Ben’s voice then, and opened his eyes. Ben held Hux’s face in both hands, staring at him like he’d forgotten the next line in the poem, in this seduction, in anything but staring into Hux’s eyes at that moment. Hux lifted one hand to Ben’s check, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone, and leaned in to close the distance between them.

Unlike the first teasing touch of Ben’s lips, this time Hux felt them warm and soft under his own. Their first few touches were almost tentative, a reassurance that they were moving to the same dance, following the same steps in rhythm. Hux pushed his hand into Ben’s hair, cradling the back of his head with his palm, when Ben made a soft noise in the back of his throat. In an instant, Hux felt the soft heat in his body build to something larger. His other hand slipped to Ben’s waist, pulling him tight against him, feeling Ben’s arms wrap around him. Their kisses were more heated now, tongue lapping in teasing touches against lips, teeth, exploring further with each pass, but dancing away again, coaxing the other further.

Hux wasn’t sure when they started moving, Ben leading him back through his own apartment, but not entirely without mishap. As they went, legs bumped tables, and Ben fell almost entirely against the door frame to his bedroom as he fumbled to get the door open without letting go of Hux. Each stumble came with hissed breaths, short huffs of laughter, and more leading kisses that pressed just off centre, just caught the edge of a lip, teasing and promising more.

Once inside Ben’s room, he retreated until he felt the press of the bed against the backs of his legs, then spun them to tumble Hux down onto the dark sheets. He followed Hux down quickly, climbing over him as Hux pulled himself up on the bed before catching him with his weight, in his arms, one hand carding through his hair again. They kissed until they were struggling for breath, separating only because they had to, and in the dim light, Ben smoothed his other hand over the sheets under Hux and said, “I would spread the cloths under your feet:”

Hux felt a smile spreading wide on his face. He threw his head back as Ben moved down to kiss along his jaw, fingers deftly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He stroked the skin of Hux’s chest as he exposed it, following each ticklish touch with his lips, and flickers of his tongue, until Hux was almost squirming under his touch. Ben reached down to pull Hux’s shirt loose from his waistband, opening the last buttons and pushing it wide so he could drag his tongue across Hux’s already half-hard nipples. Hux arched his back up into the attention, tangling one hand in Ben’s hair.

Ben moved his attentions across Hux’s chest, occasionally kissing up to his throat, to feel the rapid beat of Hux’s pulse under his lips, before returning to his teasing. Hux arched and fell under Ben’s attentions, pulling at his shirt with one hand, desperate to feel Ben’s skin against his own. Ben broke from Hux to follow his wordless plea, pulling his shirt over his head. He lay back down over Hux, pressing his lips to his chest, “But I, being poor, have only dreams.”

Hux thought Ben might kiss him then, but with a grin Ben slipped lower on his body. He slid off the end of the bed, taking hold of Hux’s shoes to slip them off.

“I have spread my dreams under your feet,” he said, eyes dropping in bashfulness as he laid Hux’s shoes on the floor and began to pull his jeans from his legs. Lying naked on the bed, Hux watched as Ben began to kiss up his legs, feeling that Ben was far more exposed than he was in that moment, feeling his trembling as he caressed Hux’s body. Hux could feel his breath coming rapidly, as Ben began to nose towards his arousal, his kisses becoming lips and nips against his skin. He paused when he was in place over Hux’s groin, eyes looking up to Hux that were so full of emotion that Hux felt himself falling into them.

“Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

Ben lowered his mouth, and Hux’s world fell away.

* * *

Hux woke early the next morning to find Ben sitting on the edge of his bed, jeans in hand. He reached out to stroke his hand across his back. Ben looked over his shoulder and smiled at him.

“Just checking my phone,” he said, his voice deep and rough from sleep.

He threw his jeans down again, twisting to slip back under the covers and into Hux’s arms. Hux hummed happily to himself as they settled together, pressing a kiss to the top of Ben’s head. He could see from this bedside clock that it was far too early to be up yet, or to even think about the day, but he knew he couldn’t settle until he asked.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast?” he heard Ben murmur against his chest. 

_ Would like to stay forever? _

“I’d like that.”

_ Yes, I would _

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Ben recites in it's entirety, is Cloths of Heaven by William Butler Yeats. 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta [Woe](http://woehuxbub.tumblr.com/).


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